Their curious fingers
scoured the world before their eyes
even opened and they clasped
the whole of their hands
around my pinkies, saying
more than any words
they’d ever utter.
Nine months was not enough; I swear
they’ll be in me forever.
One thousand paper
cranes, shadows against gold dusk,
scatter on the wind.
| deft claws heft gold stones
| honed wings steady the breeze cranes
| in fear sink release
Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, which provided the prompts “crane” and “gold.” Orizuru are paper cranes, and legends tell that a crane will grant a wish to someone who makes (and keeps) 1,000 of them. As way of explaining the second effort, it is said that cranes will deliberately carry extra weight to ballast themselves against stronger winds. From what I can tell, that may be a matter of ancient lore.
Hermits scrawl haiku
under thatched, sun-splintered roofs;
| hermits scrawl haiku
| daub paper mulberry minds
| wolves’ tails inked fractured
Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, which provided the prompt words “haiku” and “mind.” (The first is dependent on a bit of creative license: mind > head > roof.) “Hanami” refers to viewing parties when cherry trees (sakura) blossom. “Washi” refers to paper traditionally used for artwork and calligraphy.
Remember to try and read the experimental form in various ways; it’s not meant for a straightforward reading. Just as writing is a practice of experimentation, reading must be creative, too.
Photo prompt courtesy of Grammar Ghoul Press. I believe it’s an advertisement for the live-action movie adaptation of the manga Judge by Tonegai Yoshiki. After looking into it, my tanka seems way too lighthearted.
Predator and prey
secretly plot together —
seeking nature’s revival,
targeting children’s mindsets.